


Sad people make good poets

by space_ally



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Mental Instability, Other, Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21594055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_ally/pseuds/space_ally
Summary: A collection of my own poetry
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	1. They say

"You are enough"

They say

But every day

is rough. 

"Meaningless"

They say

But every day

You feel less-

Significant.

Important. 

Useful. 

Appreciated. 

Needed. 

Wanted. 

Can't help it 

How you define your self-worth

Can't shake it

The feeling that no one cares. 

As days go by

Each day a week

Another part of you 

That dies. 


	2. Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first light of day,  
> The last of your own,  
> Now that you're gone.

Fall down, on your knees

Eyes scanning the sky, 

Breathe, take it in

Because this is goodbye. 

Home an empty place, 

No meaning left,

The stars burning cold, 

The ultimate test. 

There's no way back now, 

A chess piece of chance

An outcast, a failure, a lonely soul

On second glance. 

And you can't help the tremor,

The trembling lip,

The tears spilling hotly,

Anxiety's grip.

Can't help who you are, 

Can't change how you act,

Forever the failure, 

Forever in debt. 

Freedom they called it, 

Behind their sheltering hand, 

Voices hushed and quiet

By heaven's command. 

Hopeless, desperate, completely alone, 

You close your eyes, 

Still thinking of home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually recorded this one but feel free to try your hand at it too? Honestly if you find a purpose for my poetry I'm happy, just try and credit me.
> 
> Here's Fallen, recorded: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21189107
> 
> Follow me on twitter?  
> @ajayalive


	3. Depression is a funny thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depression is a funny thing in how it's not

Depression is a funny thing. 

You can start your day spinning circles in the station all alone, a smile on your face on the way back from home. 

Life takes twists and life takes turns and now you're sobbing in the station, everyone already gone. 

Depression is a funny thing. 

It lets you appreciate the beauty in the little things because you're still here to witness the magic a sunrise brings. 

And there's a song that plays that means the world to you, about the battles you face.

Depression is a funny thing in how it's not. 

How it lets you breathe but also stop. In how you feel so very alive, it brings tears to your eyes or hate what you are so much it makes you cry. 

At the end of the day it may decide if you're alive or you're dead but remember, 

It's all in your head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same old end notes, feel free to use my words, just credit me (and maybe let me know cause that would make me very happy).
> 
> Follow me on twitter?  
> @ajayalive


	4. Beware of the Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Show me the metaphor that justifies burning up your wings for freedom, sing me a song of kindness and forgiveness when I'm broken on the ground.

A simple question.  
That's all it took.  
One word, one syllable, one why?

'Obey!' they taught us.  
But when does obedience turn into ignorance, when does obedience turn our minds to blanks, when does it leave you empty, lost, alone?  
'Obey!' they taught us.   
Why?

For if you do refuse to suffer for a cause that isn't yours, for when your heart is aching for the freedom that you can't seem to achieve but wait, you're not alone.  
There's no warning strike, no set of rules, no procedure, no trial, you've made your choice.

Unconsciously, you questioned the authorities. Unconsciously you yearned to be different, to be free. Unconsciously, cause no one told you to question, no one told you to ask, no one warned you and see where you're at.

Show me the metaphor that justifies burning up your wings for freedom, sing me a song of kindness and forgiveness when I'm broken on the ground.

And it hurts and once again you're lost and alone but there's a blinding light that tends to your wounds and you're found.  
Let's play pretend with the one who didn't fall but boy is he kind and forgiving even to those who are damned.  
And his touch stops the bleeding ache, stops the thoughts spinning in your head, fills the void in your chest and he’s warm and he’s soft and he’s... Home?

But beware you are fallen, you are damned. Cursed to eternity but chained to his hands, his smile, his heart.  
And he’s addicting.

There's no warning strike, no set of rules, no procedure, no trial, you've made your choice.

Because this time you know better, you've learned.  
Because he is the blessed and you are the damned.

And you can't taint him, taint his blinding wings for yours are tarnished and burnt and it seems like you haven't learned.

Like a moth to light you're drawn to him, like Icarus to the sun you'd die for him but don't you dare confess this eternal sin.  
A demon in love with an angel, imagine your fate, better stay quiet for your secret lover's sake.

As he’s not aware, an attempt of protection, yet it only takes the blink of an eye and you confess your affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to Beware of the Fallen/I only ever asked questions recorded: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21189452


	5. Twentythousandthreehundredandfifty miles deep

Slowly slipping away, dipping under the surface, it's cold and dark and knocks the breath out of your lungs but don't you dare gasp for air, don't you dare scream for help don't you dare admit your troubles, mouth shut, eyeing the bubbles. 

The tugging gets worse and the waves crash over your head and there's a weight on your chest when you try to get out of bed and you fail, again, because why try again when there's nothing left to keep upwards for and you're eyeing the door that could pull you out like before. 

Pitchblack darkness, a wet throaty cough, a tormentor's laugh. 

Lost, shivering and unfamiliar, you look in the mirror and that face is a stranger's one, anything safe is long gone. A chase for adventure but you tripped on your feet, never found out where the road would lead. 

You held out your hand yearning for touch, asking forgiveness, kindness, well tough. They ran right past you, not sparing a look, busy, annoyed, not giving a fuck. 

You're breaking, you're crumbling, still shivering cold. Home long forgotten, the concept you sold; like the naive traveller desperate for more, the promise of better days kept you running until your feet were sore, your lungs were hurting, your head was spinning and your ears were ringing and you fall. 

Twentythousandthreehundredandfifty miles deep, into the Canyon, the water, the reef. 

This is where you landed, that's where you belonged, suffocating, drowning, alone. 

So when the adventurer calls and asks you to come, better hide somewhere until they are gone. 

Because neither valley nor hill, neither mountain nor forest, neither river nor castle will get rid of the darkness, the voices still, the deep settled fear and self-hatred, the ill in your head. So spare yourself the trouble and just stay in bed. 

When the morning light awakened the town, they all knew the story of the one who did drown. 

In thoughts, pain and misery, always alone, never once an adventurer, now remorsefully gone. 


	6. Stellaris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come on, space man, let me show you the wonders of the human world. 

Come on, space man, let me show you the wonders of the human world. 

Let me give you a guided tour of earth and show you a sundown's worth. 

Let me kick you out of bed in the early morning,   
for a view of the sun rising in front of the small town that you called boring. 

Breathe in the icy cool air, admire the snow crystals in your hair and when you stand there, when you stop and stare, laugh at me again for my error to care, for the human quirks I share. 

Listen to the pouring rain in the middle of a thunderstorm, joke about the silly blanket that's keeping us warm. 

Try the taste of a cold, chilled soda before the excruciatingly hot summer day is over. 

Smell the first flowers of spring, listen, when the early birds start to sing. 

Take my hand and let's twirl around, enjoy being lost for the sake of being found. 

Tell me, space man, of your adventures far beyond earth, my heart growing fondly, hearing the stories you share. 

"A journey for a journey" you promise me, out there, way out, 'far beyond earth, there's a million galaxies to see. 

"You showed me your world, now let me show you mine, let's witness the stars of Andromeda align.

Let's taste some fruit you never even saw before, take a journey to a planet's core, learn about some extraterrestrial's lore. 

Let's travel together til the destinations run out, let's go, let's run, let's leave, out and about."

"Yes" I say, of course I do, the naive, dumb human who will always be loyal to you. 

We traveled the stars, through entire galaxies we've flown, however I'm aging as you're staying young. 

A touch of your hand and all I've seen, all I was shown, completely gone, your face unknown, our memories, adventures, I'm all alone. 

Sometimes I almost remember, remember the space man and his face in awe,   
at the human world, almost remember the constellations I saw. 

I pass it off as daydreaming mostly, as nightmares, bad dreams, sometimes good, as cravings for unknown food. 

Yet sometimes I catch the glimpse of the space man's suit and a smile appears on my face, 

  
as the highlights of my day

  
are the daydreams of space. 


	7. Summer Sadness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their story was magic, how did she forget?

There's a stinging flavour on her tongue,   
berries, banana, summer fruit, the taste of memories  
far from where they belong. 

She kept them hidden, locked away,   
couldn't afford the luxury to just remember,   
knew there was a price to pay. 

The ice cream drips down, down on her hands,   
a little red spot,   
turning her careless expression into a frown. 

The summer wind is freshening up,   
playing with her flowery dress,   
as she closes her eyes, a tear escapes. 

It's the memory of a love long lost,   
gone, forgotten, repressed,  
of cherry kisses and sparkling wine,   
an estranged lover's ghost. 

The echo of a laughter,   
a hint of warmth,  
the burning of liquor,  
the malt taste chasing after.

There was always a softness around her,  
something mystic, a wicked charm,  
a bubbling laughter,  
the way that she cared. 

A tear slips past the lips sealed shut,  
no room for a sound, a noise of regret,  
their story was magic,  
how did she forget?

The fault in their ways was the way they behaved.

So very human, with errors, regrets.  
With anger and sadness, words spoken in a way she'd rather forget.

No melancholy, no tragedy,  
just two people, making mistakes,   
too stuck in their ways,   
too stubborn, too hasty for their feelings to fade.

Their relationship remained an open wound,  
the lost love kept treasured,  
in the hopes to be found. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unqualified tweets: @AJayAlive  
> Unqualified Cosplay: @ajayalive (Instagram)  
> Unqualified Selfies: @ajayexists (Instagram)


	8. Lifeline

There's a rope,   
a lifeline they've thrown.

Grab it, hold tight,  
maybe it's there, at the end of the tunnel, the light.

Emptiness is all that wells up,   
yet you know you should stop.

You want to grab it, reach out,  
want your life to take a different route. 

However you're paralysed, stuck,  
maybe in shock.

The lifeline it dangles, just reach for it now,  
but maybe, just maybe, you've always been supposed to drown.  
Maybe your light is supposed to go out,  
no point in the fights that you fought.

That rope could be burning your skin, worsen the state that your in.

Eventually they'll grow tired of you, doubting your feelings ever were true, deciding you're through.

They'll be sick of throwing the lifeline, sick of helping you out, of catching your fall, listening to your stories, that's all.

It's on you for not grabbing a hold.

The empty grew cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is grade a rambly trash
> 
> happy birthday to me and my habit of pushing people away


	9. Partners in Crime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is specifically for Jo because her unbranded m&ms inspired me

The rich green satin fabric of her ankle-length dress was flowing with every confident step she took. She was wearing platform sandals because she enjoyed the way her height intimidated people while she didn't want to miss the comfort of wearing flats.

She straightened out the long sleeve of her summer dress, shaking the wrist with the silver bracelet on it, the small charms making a metallic sound when they clashed against each other. 

Her large white sun hat cast a shadow on her neck and helped hold her chestnut brown curls in place that were spreading over her slim shoulders like thick, rich syrup, gleaming in the sun. 

She disregarded the tall man's whistle with a careless flick of the perfectly manicured hand, the long red nails catching the sunlight for a second. Her equally red lips didn't bother to even indicate that he was heard, not worth the movement, let alone the parting to answer. 

Her dark eyes were hid behind a pair of fashionably big sunglasses, hiding the sharp wings of her eyeliner, the black eyelashes and just a hint of gold eyeshadow. 

Her purse's movements were accompanied by a shaking sound that no one really paid any attention to except for a blue haired woman with equally as blue eyes who couldn't help but stare at her impressive posture and poised steps.

The woman in green noticed her stare and her lips split to reveal a perfect smile. 

The charms on her bracelet, a careless spectator would have mistaken them for flowers when they were actually a variety of daggers and swords, clang against each other again when she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a long, ruby earring.

She continued walking until she stood right in front of the blue haired woman, who was sitting on a brimstone between the cobblestone pavement and the sand of the beach. Her black nail polish was chipped, her semi-transparent tights had holes in them and the white stains on her shorts could only be paint splatters. 

Her mesh top revealed a simple black bra and a few tattoos, covering her collar bone area and waist. 

She looked up to the other woman, a dark silhouette against the sunlight. 

The woman in green opened her purse, reaching into it, before she took out the small orange container, handing it to the other woman before she gracefully sat down next to her. 

The blue haired woman popped off the cap of the bottle of pills and fished out a silver ring with emerald green gems intricately worked into the metal. 

"So you did it?" the blue haired woman asked, letting her fingertips explore the smooth surface of the piece of jewelry. Her intonation was neutral, almost careless. 

"He won't wake up from that nap" the other woman explained, equally as disinterested. 

The noticably smaller woman nodded and made a move to put the ring back but her hands were stopped by the warm, smooth hands of the taller woman. 

"Marry me" the woman in green asked. 

She had shaken off the sunglasses and her eyes were full of emotion. Suddenly, she was real, touchable. 

The blue haired woman gasped in surprise, felt her own cool skin warm up against the other's touch. 

"We wouldn't be able to pull another marriage scam" she said truthfully and made the other woman shake her head, holding her hands tighter. 

"There's always bank robbery and good old pick-pocketing. I love you."

The blue haired woman turned away, only for a second, to hide the smile that had crept onto her face. With a stern, controlled expression she turned back to her partner. 

She intertwined their fingers and lurched forward to press a kiss to her lips. 

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the spotify playlist is called killer queen psycho lover. I didn't make it but you're welcome.


	10. Hold On

“ _Everything is connected_!” I whisper to myself, alone in my room.

Everything went horribly wrong, I’m on my own, all is meaningless, where’s my _magic_ my sPARK my _quest_?

I’m tired, always tired and always alone, save me, save me from this hell this life the O R D I N A R Y

“ ** _DON’T PANIC_** ” it says, **b o l d** letters, reassuring, maybe?

“You’re panicking” - Of course I am!

Breathing is hard so hard, let’s end it all, _done. Done!_

**D I D I T !**

No wait actually _Ididnot_

My reflection is so hard to bear, it’s me,

_lifelessemptyframe_

_nothingtooffer_

except my heart.

TAKE IT, take it away, sick of it.

##  **TAKE CONTROL OF YOUR LIFE**

Wait. What?

_The tears are sudden, weird, unfamiliar._

Music. I turn the volume up, my voice is _hoarse,raw,fragile_ and I **SCREAM** the lyrics and I cry and it’s a mess.

Rainbow is my favorite color no actually it’s black, like my soul and coffee.

“I thought you preferred tea?”

Yeah right.

##  _“What if one more shovel in the dirt is all it takes?”_

It’s awful, it’s hard, it’s terrifying. When you hit rock bottom and yet you keep falling, falling, fal ~~ling~~

~~Don’t give up yet.~~

It’s supposed to be like this, right?

U N I V E R S E

F A T E

C H A N C E

C O N T R ~~O L~~

_is an illusion?_

There’s a reason, some reason, there has to be.

“Everything is actually connected” I whisper again.

AND I SCREAM IT AND

_I’m weird_

_I’m random_

there’s so much going on and yet-

I’m so sick of being tossed around, _GO OUT_ , do something, tell the truth, be yourself **B E W E I R D**.

> Everythingisconnected,takecontrolofyourlife,there’sapurpose,it’ssupposedtogolikethis,hold on.

**H O L D. O N.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was heavily inspired by Douglas Adams' works, especially Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency


	11. Upside Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for a special someone

We simply switched a perspective,

exchanged a look,

shared a sentiment and

look where it took--

\-- us.

It seems unreal,

a daydream,

too good to be true,

to think about me and you.

_We._

_And._

_Us._

Three letters at most

that made my heart grow. 

Turn the world upside down,

look at the sky, take it in,

it's so stunning where do I begin?

It's always there, ever-present,

unnoticed by most 

but you made me look. 

I'm staring, staring at you,

can't seem to look away,

memorising you.

Your eyes, your smile,

the curve of your jaw,

the tone of your skin,

you leave me in awe.

My favourite thing however,

perfect, unmatched,

your kindness, your care,

the fact that you share-

your beauty with me. 

I've never before felt grateful to be. 


	12. they

Pride.

Pride they call it, that's what it is.

So how does it feel, that feeling I miss?

Be proud of your gender, your identity, 

be proud of who you are, your sexuality.

Be proud that you're different, be proud that you're you!

Please someone tell me how do I do...

That?

I hate who I am with much more than I have,

how can I be proud of that if I may ask?

I wake up, I forget, I deny, I'll lie 

and then I'll cry-

myself to sleep.

Be proud like you're proud of your brothers, your sisters, your siblings,

but how keep my head up when I'm stumbling, falling, failing at the simplest of things?

How can I be proud if I was taught to hate?

Not people like me, no, just myself,

for being inconvenient.

Too queer, too trans, too loud, too much,

yet never enough.

I am no daughter. Nor am I a son.

Sometimes I simply wish I was gone.


	13. Sit here and wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes I sit in front of my dinner for 6 hours

I sit here and I wait.

For what? I cannot tell. 

I just sit here and I wait. 

My food grew cold,

my drink ran out,

my skin grew cold,

my body aches,

yet I still sit here and I wait

and I cannot tell for what.

There's so much left to do,

so many times I've been through this,

so many hours wasted on this,

nonsense stupid nothingness.

The immobility.

The inability,

to just get up,

and get my ass to bed.

I'm cold, I'm freezing,

there's a blanket nearby,

a bed upstairs

but I don't move, just sit here and I wait

and I cannot tell for what.

Maybe it's not about what's to come...

but instead hoping there's none

No tomorrow, no deadlines, no time running out.

May this night last forever

or until my battery runs out.


	14. Chronic

I'm at war with my body,

not made for all this

but too much of a coward to quit.


	15. Someone else

I share my head with someone else.

Every night, when everything's quiet and the neighbours have stilled,

I hear their voice inside my head.

Their words are ugly and mean,

because the voice in my head belongs to a fiend,

an ongoing battle who knows who'll succeed.

Most of the time I'll shake my head, clear my thoughts and head to bed 

but every so often there's a gust of truth, a hint of something I desperately fear, the unshakeable feeling joined by a ringing in my ears.

I share my head with someone else and I'm convinced they'd rather have me dead than keep sharing the space in my head.


	16. Fine

I take comfort in this place that I have created for myself.

Some may call it strange, unusual,

some say it's naiveté

but it's protection from pain.

It's not that I don't feel,

sometimes a million things at once

but why speak those feelings into existence,

make them graspable and real

when they can be gone?

I feel and I wonder

I hurt and I hate

(mostly myself but that's a different debate)

I see and I speak

I laugh and I cry

(more than I'd need to get by).

But this pain, these feelings...

They're mine.

Mine to feel and mine to shoulder,

my responsibility to get over.

My choices have led me here.

Perhaps you could even call it cowardice

because I don't question what could be and what is.

Can't overshare if you don't share,

you simply cannot lose,

what was never yours.

It's fine.

Always was, always will be.

I'm fine. 

Always was.

What will be, we'll see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original work by Bat (the person, not the animal)

**Author's Note:**

> I have a twitter (@ajayalive) and depression haha.


End file.
